Author and Artist
Julie. Tangled organic forms, stretching for heights through the wind; unrelenting growth of intellect and flexibility of character sheathed in natural, unassailable allure. As certain and present as nature itself, yet a stoic stare reveals the pressures pervading her professionally thoughtful life.
Self-portrait. Rugged stone—my firm beliefs, stubborn loyalties, and mountainous personal goals. A thousand cracks in a single boulder; a thousand anxieties in a single day, and a thousand grains of thought for each of them. But everything weathers in the wind and waves, changing, no matter how slowly.
Reagan. Wisps of flowers and smoke; beauty in charm and irreverence. As exuberant and colorful as she is structured and deliberate, here she reads as thoughtful, vulnerable and transient; missed, and all-too-fleeting for those around her.
Emily. The sea—a crashing wave, fluid, flexible and changing, while tenacious and uncompromising. Intellect as a deepest fount, shimmering, and beautiful; she is stunningly constant, and yet—as here she reminds—unexpected, and wholly incalculable.
Steve. Waxen constructions, upward from still water; here is the embodiment of curiosity and care. Calmness in the fore cannot belie the inquisitiveness in the eyes; his pursuit of knowledge broadcast electric. A reflective constant—a loyal beacon—wizened to my ways, but never without humor.
Ron. A geode; what was at first unassuming, suddenly crystal-lined, generous. An unwavering, enigmatic druse—new facets revealed under different lights—you can’t be quite sure how it came to be, but you feel that there is indeed more to know; that there is always more than meets the eye.
April. A burst of energy, fresh air, and light; she appeared suddenly, first as a vapor, then as something more permanent, and I am struck by the complexity of its shape. There exist pieces of a shared thought—a kindredness of spirit—but only insofar as a stone is like a cloud: both of natural composition, but from wildly different domains.